


you can jump on my shoulders

by haipollai



Category: Captain America
Genre: Hand Wavey Magic, M/M, Really Sensitive Wings, Stop touching things Bucky, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 14:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haipollai/pseuds/haipollai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Sam slowly unfurls the wings, staring at them like they might attack. Bucky watches from the door, just as cautious, but a less reserved cautious.</i>
</p>
<p> <i>"Apparently that nutjob thought they were real or something, freaked when she saw my rig damaged," Sam grumbles. He's used to wings he can take on and off. He can feel where these ones connect with his back, can feel each twitch and shudder as the Helicarrier's recycled air moves over them.</i></p>
<p>  <i>Bucky licks his lips and covers the few steps to stand right in front of him.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	you can jump on my shoulders

Sam slowly unfurls the wings, staring at them like they might attack. Bucky watches from the door, just as cautious, but a less reserved cautious.

"Apparently that nutjob thought they were real or something, freaked when she saw my rig damaged," Sam grumbles. He's used to wings he can take on and off. He can feel where these ones connect with his back, can feel each twitch and shudder as the Helicarrier's recycled air moves over them.

Bucky licks his lips and covers the few steps to stand right in front of him.

"Never helping Strange with anything ever again. Magic is weird."

Bucky laughs softly. His eyes are still focused over Sam's head, at the rise of red wings. "She made them red." His fingers twitch, longing to touch but he keeps his hands to himself for now, just standing in Sam's space. His presence is comforting at least.

Sam isn't sure how to deal with this alone. "Redwing has found it hysterical."

Bucky quickly shifts his gaze and looks down at Sam. "Could be worse."

"Oh yea?"

"She could have killed you." He grins, leaning in to rest his forehead on Sam's. Somehow, instinctively, Sam curls the wings around them both. Bucky lets out a breath but doesn't look away. "Sent you to another dimension full of bird men. Turned you into a robot. She could have brainwashed you into being an evil assassin."

"I get your point," Sam sighs. He rests his hands on Bucky's hips, nudging the fabric of his t-shirt out of the way to touch bare skin. "They're just a hassle."

"Can I touch them?" His hands rest on Sam's shoulders, waiting for permission. The wings flutter and Sam isn't sure if it's anticipation or fear. The doctors had already poked at them. That had already been uncomfortable. 

But this is Bucky. "Only the real one." Bucky nods and carefully slips his real hand down over his shoulder, to where the wing protrudes from Sam's back. He shudders at the first touch but Bucky's hand moves carefully to the wing itself. His fingers carefully trace the line of one wing. When Sam still doesn't tell him to stop, his fingers dig in deeper, running through the feathers and Sam moans.

The sound catches them both off guard and Bucky freezes, his fingers still buried between the feathers.

"Do you want me to stop?" Sam should say yes. Bucky's fingers slowly pull out, taking their time. "I can stop," Bucky's voice drops to a husky whisper. "Before someone walks in on us." His forehead rests against Sam's and only his fingertips are touching the wings now. "You should see your face. I think I can make you come just by touching."

"Not here you're not," Sam growls, trying to keep control of himself before he pins Bucky to the closest wall.

Bucky pouts but keeps his hands to the human parts of Sam. Sam knows him too well though, he doesn't relax just yet. There's a soft knock on the door and Sam pulls the wings back to see Steve and Hank McCoy.

"Well, Mr. Wilson," Hank says, pulling up a seat and making himself comfortable balanced on the back. Bucky hasn't pulled away and no one says anything about it. "It seems we have two options. Dr. Strange is working away at his tomes and scrolls. He believes he is close, but magic is quite finnicky. While I and my colleagues are working on a more scientific solution to your predicament."

"So what are my options?"

"Simple enough! Either you stay here to wait this out, or you return home. That is all. Unfortunately both options require some period of you waiting while we figure out our solutions."

Sam glances at the wings, and they seem to flutter in response. "And if I leave? What about these things?"

Hank holds out a harness of some kind. Sam very carefully doesn't look at Bucky but he can still see him bite back a smirk out of the corner of his eye. "You forget, my red winged comrade, you are not the first person I have worked beside with such elegant plumage." He leaps off the chair without even tipping it. Sam jerks, thinking he's going to try to touch but Hank just holds the harness out. "The choice is yours, Samuel."

Sam takes it carefully, moving the straps between his fingers, feeling out all the buckles and figuring out how it was supposed to fit around the wings.

Hank jumps off of his chair. "I will not be offended either way."

With just them in the room again, Bucky takes the harness from him. Sam watches him as he traces the straps and buckles around and around. Until finally Sam takes it from him just to get him to stop fidgeting.

Instead Bucky's hands move over Sam's back, fluttering close to where the wings come out of his back, but not quite touching. "What do you want to do, Sam?" Sam pulls the wings tightly against his back, trying to figure out how much he can compress them. It's a strangely comforting feeling, like extra shielding. He feels a little less exposed. "Your place is kind of small…" Bucky murmurs, brushing his fingers over the feathers.

Sam shivers and he thinks about trying to go outside and maneuver which such oversensitive appendages attached to his back. Even if he flies home, he still has to move around his apartment. He rests his head on Bucky's shoulder. "We're staying," he murmurs.

Bucky's arms wrap around him, for once not trying to grope his wings. "Come on, bedroom will be more comfortable, even if it isn't yours."

Tony opens up one of the floors of the tower for them and Steve and Sharon show up with a suitcase of clothes for each of them, though Sam isn't sure how many shirts he'll really be wearing until they figure out a way to make his wings removable again. It's a good gesture though. They bring beer with them as well, and Sam appreciates that about ten times more. While Sharon insists on Bucky's help to make sure nothing breakable is lying around, just in case, Steve joins Sam out on the balcony.

"You try to fly with them yet?"

"Nah, not sure they can hold my weight. Need hollow bones for that."

Steve nods and doesn't press. "You want to play a game or two?"

"What kinda game? If you suggest pushing me off this thing-"

Steve laughs and squeezes his shoulder. "Who the hell do you think I am? Bucky? I meant poker. Sharon brought over your set of chips."

(It's a few days before a solution is found, and it's thanks to Dr. Strange magicking them away. Bucky uses those few days to the best of his abilities though and Sam almost regrets losing them. A little bit.)


End file.
